Spirituality of Imperfection
Here are selections from The Spirituality of Imperfection: Storytelling and the Search for Meaning,
Ernest Kurtz and Katherine Ketcham
(See bibliography)
Questions rather than answers
“The problem with organized religions, Bill Wilson once complained, ‘is their claim how confoundedly right all of them are.’ The spirituality of imperfection that forms the heart and soul of Alcoholics Anonymous makes no claim to be ‘right.’ It is a spirituality more interested in questions than in answers, more a journey toward humility than a struggle for perfection.” Imperfection, 5.
Are you afraid of going to hell, or have you already been there?
“Religion is for people who are afraid of going to hell; spirituality is for those who have been there.” Ross V., member of AA in Imperfection, 15.
Rigid or fluid? Sloppy or bounded?
“Viewing religion, ‘the spiritual’ see rigidity; viewing spirituality, ‘the religious’ see sloppiness. Religion connotes boundaries, while spirituality’s borders seem haphazard and ill-defined. The vocabulary of religion emphasizes the solid; the language of spirituality suggests the fluid.” 23
Living forward, understanding backwards
“In Kierkegaard’s most famous words: ‘Life must be lived forward, but it can be understood only backwards.’ And as Mark Twain put it in his inimitable style,’Although the past may not repeat itself, it does rhyme.’” 153
The shape of story
“The A.A. storytelling style –the general format describing ‘what we used to be like, what happened, and what we are like now’–shapes a language of recovery that acts as the key that opens the door to experiences that are spirituality.” 160
Alone and...
“You alone can do it, but you cannot do it alone.” 185
O. Hobart Mowrer
The Inner Critic
“Some try to silence that commentator, that critic, even to get rid of it, through the use of alcohol or drugs, or through immersion in sexuality, food, gambling or the amassing of material possessions; but always, inevitably, these are doomed efforts, for we destroy ourselves rather than destroying the critical voice, which is, indeed, an essential part of us. But if we cannot get rid ourselves of that voice, we can at least balance its effects, purge its power and its sting. We disarm the inner critic by enlarging our frame of reference so that the critical voice no longer takes up all of our inner space. That enlargement takes place most tellingly, most fittingly, by immersion in story—by telling and hearing of the experience, strength, and hope of others who describe ‘what we used to be like, what happened, and what we are like now.'” 238